


Midnight Clear

by Lirillith



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Christmas, Episode Tag, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnaby had never hated Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JulySnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulySnow/gifts).



> I hope a Christmas fic doesn't go amiss -- the last episode ends on Christmas Eve, after all, and this is set immediately after that.

Barnaby had never hated Christmas.

For years, only two people had been close enough to him to understand why he might or imagine that he would. He didn't know if either of them had wondered about it — Samantha probably had — or if they'd ever realized he didn't. He hadn't especially _enjoyed_ Christmas, but he'd never hated it.

He hated December, and spent the whole month on edge, nerves raw. He hated Ouroboros, and guns, and fires raging unchecked. He hated people who didn't look out for children. But he didn't hate Christmas itself.

He hated gray, slushy, half-melted snow clogging sidewalks and slopping over his feet, finding its way inside his boots somehow. That was part and parcel of hating December, though it had a certain immediacy at the moment. Especially since he was visiting the heavily-shaded Bronze Stage; the early-December snows had long since melted and blown away up on Gold.

"Just— I like having the tree up," Kotetsu was explaining, as Barnaby flinched from the cold water seeping through his sock. "So I hope you don't mind if I plug in the lights—"

"No," Barnaby said, "of course not." 

"You're sure?" 

They were still lingering on the doorstep, as though Kotetsu could expect him to erupt at the sight of a decorated tree, and all he wanted was to step indoors. He could smile, and try to be reassuring, but no one knew better than Kotetsu how easy it was to use a smile to hide what you didn't want seen. But there was one thing about him that he knew Kotetsu would always believe in without question, and that was his temper. So he took the next two steps to get nearer to the door, letting his irritation show on his face, and said, "Kotetsu, if you'll loan me some dry socks I don't care _what_ you want to do with your tree, but if you're going to keep me out here until I get frostbite, I think Agnes will have words for you."

That got him a bark of laughter, and a finally-opened door. "Sorry 'bout that," Kotetsu said, "I thought I warned you about the puddle—"

"You did, but it was in the middle of so much irrelevant chatter it didn't register."

"You're really willing to wear borrowed socks?"

"They'll be clean, won't they?" 

"Of course they'll be clean. What the hell kind of slob do you take me for?"

The kind of slob he'd always been, Barnaby thought, but once Kotetsu closed the door behind them, the warm room immediately steamed up his glasses, so there was little chance to see if he was wrong. Torn between vision and comfort, habit won out, and he took off his glasses to clean them. "I'll go get your socks," Kotetsu said, his voice already moving away. Barnaby nodded absently.

The lights were low, just one lamp turned on near the door, so when the tree lit up, the sudden blaze of light was visible even to him, even without glasses; a shape straight out of childhood, just as vague and vivid as memory. He swallowed hard, and put his glasses back on. 

"Hey Bunny," Kotetsu called from upstairs. Barnaby looked up, to see him leaning over the upstairs railing. "Catch!" 

"Kotetsu, you—" The balled-up socks plopped harmlessly onto the couch. Barnaby sighed, and balanced on one foot to pull off his wet boot. 

"You're no fun," Kotetsu said, but Barnaby heard his footsteps moving back toward the stairs. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Whatever you have." Walking unevenly, one foot bare, Barnaby went to sit on the couch by the socks. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather call Kaede?" 

"Tomorrow," Kotetsu said. "I'll call her in the morning when she's opening up presents. Don't worry about me. What's been up with you?"

Typical, Barnaby thought, but it was true. They hadn't talked in so long. Why was that? Why did they need work to link them? 

Kotetsu came back to the living room, a can of beer in each hand. The room was still lit almost entirely by the golden light of the tree, gentle enough to wipe away some of the tired lines on Kotetsu's face. He wasn't an old man, despite all the jokes; in this light, he just looked ageless, and his smile was enough to stop Barnaby's heart.

"Wish I'd known you were back in Stern Bild," Kotetsu said. "I'd have bought you something." He reached across the couch's low back to hand Barnaby the beer.

"I don't need anything," he said, unthinkingly. 

"Heh. Yeah, guess that's true." 

It wasn't true. He needed time. He needed his parents back. He needed Kotetsu; he needed to be able to speak to this man, to see him, to be bound to him by something more than a contract with Apollon. 

But he was here with him now, in a warm room lit by a Christmas tree. He had dry socks to wear and he knew he could sleep here tonight. 

He had a partner again.


End file.
